Wicked Whispers

Second segment of the series of shots entitled Wicked.

Wicked Whispers
By: Tassana Burrfoot

Hermione grimaced as she eased her aching muscles into the hot water. It had been a long, tiring night and she was glad to see it was almost over.

For a while, it had seemed midnight would never come and her detention with Malfoy would never end. After he had placed the spell... no, curse over her, she found herself compelled to do anything he asked of her. Needless to say, Snape was not pleased to find that there wasn't a single cauldron cleaned when he returned.

She had never thought it possible. Had never pegged Malfoy as the type. And yet, she found herself completely and utterly... wrong for the first time in her life.

She had always been the type to assume the best in people. She had to. She wanted to. To think that there was good in everyone. That, no matter their station in life, there was some shred of humanity left within them.

But, she feared this was not the case with Draco Malfoy. He was barbaric, cold, and cruel. He used her and abused her. He raped her when she did not willing give what he wanted, then pushed her when she was compelled to do his bidding.

She could still taste his seed in her mouth and she was not allowed to wash it out. Oh, no. It would have been too kind of him to not say anything. Instead, he had ordered her to not brush her teeth until the morning.

She felt dirty. Every bit as filthy as he claimed her to be. But, throughout the entire night, he had not once called her filthy or dirty. Sure, he had called her a Mudblood, but he had used it more as a term of endearment rather than an insult. He had even called her beautiful and praised her when she did something right.

And she was told to call him Draco. Not Malfoy, not Slytherin scum, but Draco. "That is my name, pet, and that is what you shall call me," he had told her.

Well, at least he wasn't making her call him Master.

She curled her lip in disgust as she willed the heated water to cleanse her skin. She hadn't even bothered to turn on the cold water, but had decided to bathe in straight hot water. Perhaps the scalding heat would burn away the filth.

She winced and hissed as she slipped her fingers into the pool of water to fish out her washcloth. Once she found it, she brought it out of the water, poured soap on it, and began scrubbing her limbs until they were nearly red.

She feared tomorrow. Feared what he would do. Would he parade about the castle and announce to everyone what he had done? Would he force her to do something horrible in front of her friends? Would she even be allowed to be around her friends?

How many more times would he use her body? Was there some way out of this curse?

There had to be. The wizards of old wouldn't create a curse that they couldn't counter-curse. Otherwise, any woman could be forced into the services of a man without prior consent. How did the wizard fathers protect their virgin daughters? What did they do if their daughters fell victim to a rape and a forced spell? It seemed impossible to her that a father would allow his daughter to fall prey to a vagabond.

She would have to research it in the morning. Once the library was opened in the morning, she intended to score the library until she found the answers she needed. If they weren't within public view, she would confide in Hagrid and beg him to allow her a pass into the Restricted Section.

She loathed telling any man about her problem. But, she understood the necessity of having a friend by her side. And Hagrid had always been a friend. As a teacher, he could grant her special favours. As a friend, she could trust him not to speak to anyone of it. After all, if Malfoy decided not to say anything, she didn't want anyone to know if she could help it.

It wasn't until two in the morning that she was finally able to find the comfort and safety of her warm bed. She didn't know how she had managed to avoid Harry or Ron the entire time, but she was grateful to whatever god had given her that special privilege. She wasn't exactly thrilled with the prospect of seeing them either.

If Harry or Ron ever learned of her plight, they would likely have Malfoy's head. And while it wouldn't pain her much to see Malfoy lying cold and lifeless on the dungeon floor, she didn't wish to see Harry and Ron end up in Azkaban for the rest of their lives.

With fear and a heavy heart, Hermione emerged into a fitful, restless sleep.

(II) (II)

First light found Hermione bent over the bathroom sink. Half of her tube of toothpaste was already gone. Her teeth were bleeding from her constant brushing. Her tongue was nearly bleeding as well. She also had a bottle of mouthwash sitting on the sink's vanity opened and ready for the moment she was finished brushing.

She knew her hard brushing wasn't good for her teeth. Or, at least, not her gums.

Her parents were dentists and would have had a fit if they had seen the state their daughter was in. They would have gone mad with rage to see what she was currently doing to her mouth.

But, she had to get the taste out of her mouth. He had made her swallow and she was sorely tempted to actually drink the mouthwash. But, she wasn't foolish enough to do so.

Five minutes was what her parents had taught her was the appropriate amount of time to spend brushing one's teeth. She spent twenty. And that was just on the brushing.

She rinsed her mouth out well with water and then proceeded with the mouthwash. It was still ridiculously early, so she didn't have to worry about anyone walking in on her. Being Saturday, most of the girls in Gryffindor slept in anyway.

She spent another thirty minutes with the mouthwash and used nearly all of the bottle. She would have to send an owl home for some more. God knew Malfoy would probably want a repeat of last night's performance sometime in the near future. Probably at detention tonight.

She almost swallowed a mouthful of wash at that thought. She had forgotten about that! Snape would want them to continue cleaning what they didn't clean last night. They hadn't cleaned anything...

If she had a smidgen of thought that Snape would have even the tiniest bit of liking towards her, she'd go to him and beg him to call off tonight's detention. Or, at the very least, beg him to be present. After all, Malfoy wouldn't do anything in front of a teacher.

But, she knew better. Snape loathed her almost as much as he loathed Harry. She couldn't even understand it! Unlike Harry, both of her parents were Muggles, therefore carried absolutely no relation to James Potter and his band of bullies. In fact, the only thing Hermione was guilty of was her intelligence and her ability to memorize books word for word.

She assumed that was why Snape hated her so much. She was smart. The smartest in her year. And worse, she was a Gryffindor.

It didn't make any sense to her, really, but she supposed that it made some sort of twisted sense to Snape. It had to. Otherwise, why did he loathe her so much?

She finished with her mouthwash and dried her face. Once she was satisfied, she cleaned her toothbrush and the sink, gathered her belongings, and left the bathroom. It was time to go to the library.

(III) (III)

Hermione stood at the entrance to the library and stared at the seemingly endless rows of bookcases, all covered from top to bottom with books. She was very knowledgeable with the library, having spent the past six years within the walls of Hogwarts. But, she had no idea where to start.

From what she could remember from the previous night, the spell had been old. Or, at least, that's what Malfoy had told her. An old spell passed on from father to son, generation to generation. Of course, he had told her about it after the spell was cast and there wasn't a thing she could do about it.

He had said something about how the spell was a sort of wedding present a father gave to his son to use on the night of the son's wedding. It was a way to ensure a woman would please her husband because most marriages in the old days were arranged and entirely loveless. (Not that that sort of thing stopped happening.)

She decided to start with families. Perhaps there was a mention of the spell that would give her some sort of clue as to where to find it at.

She thought about asking Madam Pince for help, but quickly decided against it. She didn't want anyone to know about her problem, especially if Malfoy had no intention to tell anyone.

She found the correct aisle and began searching for hopeful books. She picked anything and everything that she thought would give her an idea or clue of some sort. Once she had a pile of books, she brought them over to a table and dumped them. She pulled out a seat and began pouring over the books.

She was on her fourth book when she heard a soft chuckle behind her. She made to look around, but was stopped by two hands, one on each of her shoulders. She recognized those hands and she felt her heart drop to her stomach.

"Well, well, well," whispered a voice in her ear that almost made her cringe. "Already planning our family, my dear? I think it's still a bit early, don't you? We should at least wait until we have graduated. Then again, I wouldn't mind it much if you learned a few home cleaning spells. Our house-elves aren't as young as they used to be and could use the help."

She sneered, "I have no intention of having a family with you, M... Draco. And if you think I'm going to clean your nest, you have another thing coming."

He chuckled again as he bent down towards her. She could feel his hot breath on her neck and she wanted to push him away. "I don't think you have much choice, dear," he whispered against her skin as he planted soft kisses there. "I am the only man who can touch you unless I give another permission to do so. As for the cleaning, it was a jest on my part. I wouldn't want you to clean. It's not a woman's place."

She turned her head to look him in the eye. "And what is a woman's place?" she growled, staring into his silver orbs.

He smiled as he looked back at her. "To stand by her man," he answered simply. "Not to mention a number of other things, including planning parties, attending banquets, decorating, and, of course, making babies."

At that, she stood up, forcing him to take a step back. She turned on him. "I don't think so, Draco," she snapped. "I wouldn't have your child if my life depended upon it!"

He merely raised a single, slender eyebrow and gave her his typical arrogant smirk. "How do you know you are not already pregnant?" he asked. "We had sex several times last night and not a single one was done with protection. And I forbid you to take a contraceptive."

She could feel the tears stinging her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She would not show any weakness in front of this monster. Unfortunately, he was right. She had no idea if she was already pregnant or not. And now, he had taken away her chance to prevent it from happening.

"Why are you doing this? You hate Muggle-borns. You hate me. Why are you forcing me into something that you know will make neither of us happy?" she questioned, unable to think of a solution out of this mess.

His smirk did not fade. "It has come to my attention that you are a very intelligent woman," he told her as he took a step towards her. "Ever since the Yule Ball, I have found myself uncharacteristically smitten by you. Unfortunately, I had no idea what to do about it. Being a pureblood and a Slytherin, I couldn't very well approach you and ask you out. So, I went to my father and asked for advice."

"He must have loved that," she commented sarcastically. "His only son had fallen for a Mudblood."

His smirk died. "He wasn't pleased," he admitted, his eyebrows furrowing. "But, after I told him about your benefits and qualifications, he reluctantly agreed that you would make a suitable bride, if I so choose."

"My benefits and qualifications?" she repeated, trying and failing to step away from him. He had blocked her between him and the table.

He nodded. "You have everything. Beauty, intelligence, cunning, ambition, and cleverness are just a few of the qualities. Never mind the fact that you are quite talented. Had you even a smidgen of wizarding blood within you, you probably would have been placed in Slytherin, rather than Gryffindor. Once I told Father this, he agreed," he explained.

She frowned. "But, that doesn't explain why you would rape me and place a spell upon me without my consent. Wouldn't it have been more productive to have gained my trust and interest? To woo me, perhaps?"

Perhaps if she kept him talking, she'd be able to find out how to get out of this. He actually laughed, "I have spent the last six years tormenting you and your little friends. I highly doubt any amount of wooing on my part would have gained your trust or interest. Though I hadn't really intended on raping you, it seems to have worked in my favour..."

Her eyes widened slightly. "How?" she asked.

"Come here," he said and she obeyed.

He slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her close to him. She could feel his slowly hardening cock against her stomach and she felt nauseated. "Look at me," he whispered and she gazed up into his silver eyes.

"You ask how raping you has worked in my favour," he whispered as his lips brushed against hers. "Can you not figure it out? I needed to have sex with you to cast the spell. I knew there was no way you'd willingly have sex with me. I had to rape you. There was no other way about it."

"Why?"

"Because I want you. And Malfoys always get what we want."

With that, he kissed her. She wanted to fight him, but knew it was pointless to try. Nothing that he had said made sense to her. He had spoken in contradictions and riddles. He hadn't intended to rape her, but he had to rape her. That didn't make any sense.

He gently licked her bottom lip and she opened her mouth a bit, allowing him access. There was no point in denying him, especially when he could simply order her to give him what he wanted. As he deepened the kiss, she willed herself to keep her eyes open. She refused to enjoy his ministrations, no matter how good a kisser he was.

One of his hands fell to her bottom and she gasped, not because she enjoyed it, but because she feared what was going to happen next. She had learned a lot from last night. Sure enough, she felt his hand move to her thigh and pull it up as he slipped inbetween her legs. She was suddenly very thankful she had chosen to wear jeans.

Her hands moved to his chest and she almost groaned in annoyance. Then, she decided to keep them there. It would lead him into a false sense of security and then, maybe, she'd be able to find a way out of this mess.

He pressed his erection against her jeans and moaned his frustration. He broke the kiss and looked down at her. His silver eyes had turned molten as they were driven into the lust he felt for her. She knew well the look he was giving to her.

He took her hand and pulled her towards to bookcases. She followed, unable to do anything else, but squeaked her protest, "Draco, we are in the library! We couldn't possibly..."

He nearly shoved her against a bookcase and pressed himself against her. He whispered in her ear, "As long as we don't make any loud noises, there should be no reason for anyone to come this way. Can't you feel it? I need you, Hermione. I need you now."

She felt him working at the button on her jeans and her face grew hot. He was going to undress her here! She knew she was blushing. The heat on her face couldn't mean anything else as she felt her jeans become incredibly loose.

He kissed her again as he slipped his hand beneath her knickers and began toying with her pussy. She willed herself to not enjoy it, but her body had other ideas. He trailed kisses to her ear and whispered, "You're so wet for me. You want this as much as I do."

She wanted to deny it, but she knew she shouldn't. He wouldn't believe her anyway. She knew his other hand was working on his own pants and soon, she felt his naked erection rub against the bare skin of her stomach.

"Don't make any noises," he whispered in her ear as he pressed kisses to her neck. "No matter how good it feels, no matter how much you wish to shout out your enjoyment. We aren't in the dungeon like last night. We have to be quiet."

She groaned as he pulled her jeans and knickers down. He meant it! He was going to take her right here! She could hardly believe her misfortune as he grabbed her thighs and pulled her up, leaning her against a bookcase. She grabbed onto his shoulders for additional support as he pushed himself into her.

She wanted to cry out. She was still sore from last night, but she found she had no voice. His command had taken her voice from her! He began to pound into her and she wanted to scream. Tears fell freely from her eyes as she willed it to end.

Again, her body betrayed her. As much pain as she was in, she could feel the mounting ecstasy. It was a feeling she had learned quite well last night and she still didn't understand it. The boy was practically raping her again, and her body was enjoying it! It didn't make any sense!

He took her hard and fast. She opened her mouth to scream her release, but wasn't surprised that nothing came out. She could feel his seed pouring into her as he found his release as well. They were both panted hard as they began to descend from their climaxes.

"Oh, God," he whispered as he pulled out and gently placed her back on the floor.

He pressed his forehead against hers as he tried to catch his breath. She stared at him, though his eyes were shut. She, too, tried to catch her breath. For a while, they just stood there as they calmed down.

He opened his eyes and kissed her, though he did not linger. He gave her a dashing, charming smile. "You are so beautiful," he whispered as he took a step back from her. "So good."

She pinched her lips together and gave him a look. She still couldn't talk.

He realized this and laughed as he fixed his trousers. "You can speak now," he said.

"Thank you," she returned as she reached down to pull up her own pants. "I can't believe you did that in the middle of the library. Anyone could have walked in on us."

He laughed again. "I highly doubt it. Most people are still sleeping. It's Saturday, Hermione," he reminded her.

"That doesn't mean anything. I've seen plenty of Ravenclaws in here on Saturdays," she pointed out.

"Yes, but not in a section devoted to family life," he shot back, walking back over to her table and perusing the books. "Most Ravenclaws who are in the library at this time are studying either for their N.E.W.T.s or O.W.L.s. After all..."

His voice faded and she looked at him curiously. His face was slowly contorting in anger. Apparently, he was realizing what it was she was trying to look up. His head shot up and his steel eyes bore into her. Then, they softened and he gave her a smirk.

Her eyes widened in fear as he approached her. She tried to back away, but he was faster. He slammed her against the side of a bookcase and pressed his body against hers to keep her there. His lips brushed her ear as his hot breath teased it.

"You can look all you want, Granger," he whispered. "You're not going to find it. That spell isn't something one can learn from a book. And neither is its counter. You're wasting your time."

With that, he kissed her roughly on the lips and let her go. He gave her another smirk, turned on his heel, and left. She stared at his retreating back and felt hopeless.

Then, she found a new sense of courage. He had been angry that she was even looking it up. That meant there had to be something. She was more determined than ever to find it.

---

Author's Note: There you go. Another installment for my Wicked series. I know it seems I'm procrastinating with getting In-Laws up. In truth... I am. My brain just doesn't feel like working on it now. But, I promise I will finish it. I refuse to leave that story untold.